


I'll Be Home for Christmas

by dollylux



Series: Fic Advent Calendar 2014: Brothers, Soulmates, and Other Such Sexiness [18]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Airports, Broken Heart, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Cuddling & Snuggling, First Meetings, Flight Cancellations, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-02 02:05:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2795717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollylux/pseuds/dollylux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared's flight home on Christmas Eve gets cancelled.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Be Home for Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Day seventeen of my fic advent challenge. Prompt: cancellations.
> 
> This is a fic idea I got years ago after seeing a Sears commercial, of all things, with a similar plot. I wanted to read a J2 fic like it and _didn't find one_ (what?!), so I'd planned on writing a 20k-ish word story one year for Christmas. Instead, I've written a smaller one for this challenge. I hope y'all still like it.  <3
> 
> (Sorry this is late! I had a long day yesterday! Un-betaed, also sorry.)

Jared is supposed to be in Austin in two hours.

He clutches his phone nervously in his hand, squeezing it in slow pulses over and over as he looks around at his fellow stranded passengers. He’d left Oslo at 3pm UTC, spent nearly nine hours in a cramped seat in economy only to land in New Jersey and find his flight back to Austin delayed. And delayed. And now he’s been here for four hours, stranded in a ceaseless snowstorm, and everyone keeps glancing up at the tired airline employees, waiting for them to call it, to put them all out of their misery.

There are at least three babies crying nearby, all at different intervals, all with a wailing consistency that makes Jared’s eye twitch. There are dozens of conversations going on, some on phones, some in person, all talking about what’s going on, about snow and how it’s Christmas Eve and this shouldn’t be happening, someone should do something, talking about rental cars and maybe-tomorrow-morning.

Jared stands up, everything about his body loose with exhaustion, jet-lag, and that particular kind of wild-eyed carelessness that comes with travelling for too long. He makes his way over to the ticket counter, one woman on the phone with somebody and punching numbers into the computer, another already watching him with guarded patience, mouth in a firm line.

“Excuse me,” Jared starts, making his Texas drawl as sweet and lazy as possible. He gives her a tired, small smile. She doesn’t so much as flinch.

“Yessir?”

“I was just wondering if you knew anything. If this flight’s just cancelled or not.”

“Sir, I cannot confirm that as of yet. We’re still waiting to hear--”

“Okay, but,” he tries again, leaning on the counter, straining forward to drop his voice to a quiet murmur, “if you were asked your opinion about whether or not this flight was gonna get cancelled, what would you say?”

“Sir--”

The woman on the phone hangs up all of a sudden, reaching for her little loudspeaker and talking right into it, her voice sounding over the speakers all around their gate.

“Ladies and gentleman, we regret to inform you that United flight 6864 to Austin has been cancelled due to inclement weather.”

Jared sighs, not even bothering to smile at either of them.

 

“The availability of hotels in the nearby area is low due to the holiday season and other cancelled flights. We ask for those with small children or elderly members in their party to please come forward to receive a voucher for a nearby hotel. Everyone else, please sit tight and listen for further announcements about outgoing flights. Thank you.”

Jared is suddenly swarmed at the counter, and he has to lift up his hands in surrender and duck out, the absolutely cacophony of angry passengers deafening. He breaks free and finds most every single seat at the gate empty. He returns to his bag, sinking down in his seat again and pulling out a phone to send a message to his mom:

_Flight cancelled. Stuck in Jersey. JERSEY, Mom! :(_

”---yeah. Yeah. Jersey, of all places! If I’d known I wasn’t going to be able to make it home, I woulda stayed in Glasgow a couple more days.” The voice nearby pauses, the guy obviously listening to the other person on the line. Jared zips up his backpack and tugs it up onto his shoulders, about to head out and find some coffee and possibly something not shitty to eat when he hears that same voice dropping to something soft, sad. “I just miss y’all so much. All I’ve been thinking about is getting home for Christmas. Is just being home.”

Jared glances over then, all his own weariness getting pushed aside for the waver in that voice, the possibility of a grown man being in tears in the middle of the Newark airport on Christmas Eve just too much for him to ignore. He looks over and just kind of stops breathing, because that man.

That man is the most beautiful one he’s ever seen in his life.

“I will. I will, Mama. I love you, too. Bye.”

The guy hangs up and rubs his face hard with his hand, giving a shaky sigh into his palm. Jared is moving toward him without even meaning to, is sinking down into the seat next to the guy and craning down to try and see his face without invading his space too much.

“Hey,” he says softly, hand on the armrest between them, close but not touching. “You okay?”

The guy glances over, a flash of green and freckles and flushed cheeks, before he looks away again.

“Yeah. Yeah, man, I’m fine. Just a shitty day, you know?”

Jared gives a little huff of laughter that is completely void of humor.

“Yeah,” he replies, his own head down now, hair that’s in desperate need of a washing hanging down over his face. “Yeah, I get that.”

“I mean, really? Jersey for Christmas? At least if we were at JFK, we could go out and do something in NYC, you know? What the fuck is there to do in Newark?” Another look from the guy, and Jared glances over at him with a real smile before leaning back in the seat, letting out a heavy sigh as he thinks.

“I dunno. I’m sure there’s a Taco Bell or somethin’ out there. Maybe some parking lots?”

The guy finally returns the smile, sitting up himself for the first time and offering Jared his hand. “Jensen Ackles.”

“Jared Padalecki.” They shake hands, warm skin on warm skin. It lingers just a second too long and it makes Jared’s pulse kick up. “Please forgive me for looking like a Nirvana reject. I haven’t really had the best week, and I haven’t managed to wash my hair in a few days.”

Jensen is smirking at him now, looking him over like he’s going to be critical, those bright eyes finding Jared’s once again. “It’s okay. I love Nirvana.”

Jared’s laugh is shy, eyes averting to stare down at his long fingers. “Listen, I was fixin’ to go find a burrito place or somethin’. Definitely some coffee. You maybe wanna join me?”

“That actually sounds awesome,” Jensen sighs, reaching for the leather jacket he has slung over the arm on the other side of his seat and his smart little brown leather carry-on. “This might sound kind of stupid, but it feels so good to be talking to an American. I’ve been in Scotland for almost three weeks, and I think I’ve lost half of my mental capacity trying to translate all the rolling Rs into something vaguely English.”

They shuffle through the terminal lazily, in absolutely no hurry, especially seeing as how the ground outside is completely white and the snow just keeps falling harder and harder.

“Scotland, huh?” Jared glances over, admiring Jensen’s profile, his sweet nose and long lashes and pretty mouth, and he sends up a quick prayer to the gods of dick and lube and twinks that Jensen is just as queer as he is. “What’s in Scotland?”

“I was there doing some research on my mom’s family tree. It was actually going to be part of her Christmas present, but I’m going to need a for more months to go through all the stuff I found.” They come to a stop in front of a little Mexican place, getting in line.

“That’s… amazing. That’s so sweet to do that for your mom.” Jared pulls his wallet out, determined to pay for Jensen’s food, just wanting to make his day a little better, make him smile again, even just for a second. 

“Her dad passed away in June. She’s had a really hard time. She’s just gotten really into family and learning her history, and I just… wanted to give her some more of it.” Jensen pauses to order a couple of chicken burritos, and Jared does the same along with some beans and rice and churros and a couple of drinks, and he hands over his card before Jensen can even get his wallet out. “Jared, you didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to. It’s nothing, I promise.” He signs his receipt and grabs the cups, leading them over to the soda machine where he fills his up. They grab some straws and napkins and head over to one of the little tables nearby. Jared unwraps one of his burritos and takes a huge bite, letting out a moan that is so loud he should probably be embarrassed. He just closes his eyes and chews. “Ohmygod. _Flavor._ ”

Jensen’s just watching him, both of his eyebrows raised in amusement as he calmly unwraps his own burrito. “Where have you been? Iceland?”

“Norway,” Jared says after he swallows, taking a long drink of his Sprite and pushing the wrapper on his burrito down. “Backpacking through Europe. Cheaper to do in the winter.”

Jensen nods and they both take a bite, Jared somehow holding in another moan and Jensen wiping his fingers off on a napkin over and over again. They take a drink at the same time and Jensen finally responds.

“That sounds kinda fun, actually. I haven’t done that in years. Was it just you?”

Jared huffs, wiping off his mouth as all the humor drains from his face. He stares down at his burrito, fidgeting with the wrapper.

“No. It was me and my boyfriend, Andy. We’d be having problems. Just… stupid arguments and not really talking a lot, and he’d been going out with his friends instead of wanting to spend time with me, so I thought it’d be good to just get out and travel together, you know? Just have some experiences and get some perspective about our relationship. I dunno. It sounded good at the time.”

“It sounds like a great idea,” Jensen says softly, his burrito back on his plate, all of his attention on Jared.

“Yeah, well,” Jared mumbles, putting his own food down and shoving both of his hands into his hair with a sigh. “”I thought so, too. Until I come back to our room in Stockholm and find his legs wrapped around some guy’s neck getting fucked into the bed. _Our_ bed. I’d just gone out for food, and…”

He presses his fingers hard into his eyes, shaking his head as he sucks in another breath.

“Jared.” Jensen’s hand is on his arm now, gentle and warm, and Jared can’t really look over at him, not right now. “Jesus. What did you do?”

“I-I… I tried to talk to him. To reason with him. I thought we should just finish the trip and then come home and deal with everything. We just had five more days left. I just thought maybe we could… just. Maybe we could’ve gotten past it, you know?”

“And he didn’t want to,” Jensen guesses, thumb stroking over Jared’s arm.

“He wanted to stay there.” Jared shrugs, taking a drink just to have something to do, tearing off a corner of his burrito and eating. “So, now I get to go home and explain to my family what happened. We were supposed to get married next year.”

“What an asshole.”

Jared glances over then to find Jensen’s eyes wide, like he’s surprised at himself. He smiles when Jensen stammers, his cheeks pink. He drops his hand from Jared’s arm.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t… it’s not my place to say that. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” Jared laughs, sitting back in his seat, wishing he could somehow get Jensen’s hand back on him. “It’s been a really, really shitty week. I just wanted to get home and sleep, you know? Just hide for awhile and try to deal with this.”

“He didn’t deserve you. You know that, right?” 

Another shrug, eyes down again, his chest aching dully. “I just want to stop feelin’ like this. I just wanna get through this part and feel okay again.”

Jensen shifts a little closer, their knees brushing under the table. He’s got the sweetest smile on his face, his voice soft when he speaks.

“I know just the thing that’ll help.”

Jared looks up at him through his lashes, his heart giving a hopeful little leap.

“You do?”

“Mhmm.” Jensen takes a decisive sip of his drink, his smile growing after he swallows. “Get yourself stuck at the Newark airport on Christmas Eve.”

Jared laughs then, can’t help it, lifting his foot to shove it playfully at Jensen’s shin.

“Ass.”

“What?! It’s true. I mean, you’re here with me, you’re eating food that isn’t some kind of fermented shark--”

“I really think that’s an Icelandic thing--”

“--And I have a fully charged phone with tons of music on it. We can just hang out after this and chill out and pretend we’re here because we wanna be here. What do you say?”

Jared’s smile is tiny but genuine, his foot between Jensen’s now, caught there between his boots, and when their eyes meet, there’s a spark there, something warm, like a promise.

“I say you’ve got yourself a deal.”

They devour two burritos each, both of them sharing the bowl of beans and rice and the churros, sharing food like they’ve known each other for years, like this is just a thing they do. They talk about Texas, about how amazing Austin is. They talk about their families, Jared about how his whole family moved to Austin for his mom’s job and they’ve stayed there for the last ten years and Jensen about how his mom now lives in Austin after divorcing his dad so she could be closer to Jensen and his sister. They talk about the Cowboys and about Jared’s Tony Romo voodoo doll, they talk about beer and both confess their love of wine, much to the other’s relief. They talk about watches, about Jared’s ‘65 Corvette Stingray that he’s been fixing up for the past six years, about their jobs and how much they hate their cramped apartments and about how Jensen really wants to sing songs at an open mic-night someday and about how much Jared is attracted to musicians.

They mosey down to Starbucks after they eat, Jensen ordering a giant something with a lot of added espresso and Jared getting a hot chocolate with peppermint. They walk back toward their gate, their bodies a little closer now, a comfortable ease between them that has Jared feeling almost happy when they get back to their seats.

“Wanna just camp out on the ground here? I’ve got some blankets and a pillow in this insane bag of mine.” Jared drops the backpack and starts digging through while Jensen rummages around in his own for his headphones.

“Sure.” Jensen helps Jared spread the blanket out near the windows, the snow outside in the darkness actually kind of pretty now. They sink down onto their little bed together, both of them leaning up against the wall while life goes on all around them: parents getting their kids to calm down, giving them iPads to distract them, other people dozing uncomfortably in seats, some reading, some talking, some glued to their phones.

Jared looks over at Jensen who is holding up an earbud to him, who is now a familiar face, such a comfort here in this lonely place that he doesn’t know what to say suddenly. He takes the earbud and tucks it into the ear nearest Jensen, closing his eyes as Jensen does the same thing and presses place, a soft, acoustic guitar connecting them, drawing them together into a moment.

Jared takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, a calm settling over him that he hasn’t felt in a long time, maybe years.

They’re quiet for at least an hour, song after song playing in their ears, and they move closer and closer together with each one until they’re curled up on the blanket together, heads tucked onto the little pillow, Jared behind Jensen, his chest to Jensen’s warm back, headphone in the other ear now. He keeps his hands off of him, doesn’t press up against him but it’s there between them, the inevitability of it, the fact that this is the beginning of something and they’re easing into it.

“Jared?” Jensen murmurs after a long flow of quiet, his voice thick with comfort, with sleepiness.

“Mm?”

“You can touch me.”

Jared’s face heats up, and he can’t help but lift his eyes, but look around at the other people nearby. No one’s looking at them, no one cares that these two guys have separated themselves, are in another little world away from them all. He swallows, breath held, nose so, so near to the back of Jensen’s head, to the soft strands of his dark blonde hair. He lifts a hand then, long and cautious and wanting this, and he slides it across the curve of Jensen’s hip just as Jensen inhales, his whole body moving, responding to Jared’s touch. 

He nestles back just as Jared wraps his arm around him, both of them tucking up tight to the other. Jared closes his eyes and just feels him, the firm softness of Jensen’s stomach through his layers, the warmth of his back and the sweet curve of his ass nestled against him, the smell of sweat and stale plane air in his hair and on his skin. Jared wonders what he smells like in his bed, what he smells like when he first wakes up, after he’s been fucked, what he would smell like in Jared’s apartment.

“What are you thinking about?” Jensen’s voice is so low, so intimate that it draws goosebumps over Jared’s skin. He presses his fingers into Jensen’s stomach and rubs it in a deep press.

“About the way you smell,” Jared whispers into the back of his neck, his eyes staying closed, not wanting to break the spell. “About how it feels like I’ve been holding you forever. About how your skin would feel under my hand. And my mouth.”

Jensen inhales deeply, lifting Jared’s hand with the movement. Jensen’s hand slides over Jared’s on his stomach, guiding it down to the hem of his sweater and the shirt underneath it and under, right up against his tight little belly, against that expanse of warm, vulnerable skin. Jared exhales hot across Jensen’s neck, hips straining forward a little tighter, every single part of him wanting to get in on that warmth, to feel close to Jensen.

“Now your mouth,” Jensen breathes, his hand back, sliding fingers into Jared’s hair and tugging him forward very gently with the touch, bumping Jared’s mouth against the nape of his neck. Jared feels a moan rumble around in his chest as he parts his lips to kiss Jensen’s skin, tasting him for the first time. He spreads kisses all over his neck, from his hair all the way down to the first few notches of his spine before Jensen’s shirts get in the way, all the way around to his ear that he kisses at, that he breathes quickly against, lips parted right there.

“After we finally get home, after Christmas and everything settles down, can I take you out? Will you give me a chance?”

Jensen nods, hand still in Jared’s hair, holding him where he is, his neck exposed for Jared’s mouth, such a beautiful trust, one that makes Jared feel fiercely protective of Jensen already. He feels Jensen draw a breath to speak, but a little boy’s voice nearby interrupts them.

“Daddy, what are those two men doing?”

Jared tenses, keeps his eyes closed, doesn’t look over at the father with his son, nervous about what the dad could say. There’s a pause.

“They’re holding each other,” comes a deep male voice, like the words were carefully chosen. 

Another pause.

“Can boys do that?”

“Sure. If they care about each other. They’re snuggling like me and Mommy do sometimes, aren’t they? They’re in love, just like we are.”

Jared smiles, tightening his hand on Jensen’s stomach just as Jensen tucks back against him a little more, Jensen’s nails running sweet over his scalp. 

Neither of them bother to correct him.


End file.
